Staring Down the Storm
by Channel D
Summary: When a rare hurricane is predicted to pass over Washington, Tim and Tony can't resist a bit of storm-watching thrill. Even Ziva is a little interested. Then they get in over their heads...Four-chapter story written for the NFA Sun, Sea and Sand challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Staring Down the Storm**

**by channelD**

_written for_: the NFA _Sun, Sea & Sand_ Challenge. It's a beach-themed challenge.

_rating_: K plus

_genre_: Drama

_set in_: season 6, but no real spoilers

_author's note_: I'm sticking to my original conception of Tim's parents as meteorologists, rather than having his father be career Navy. Hey; I had my idea first.

- - - - -

_disclaimer_: I own nothing of NCIS.

- - - - -

**Chapter 1**

Tony cast a quick glance at the _ZNN_ display on the nearby TV. So did Tim. _Candide now a category 2 hurricane as she moves across Virginia, _the crawl at the bottom of the screen read.

"Eyes on your work; not on the Panic System," Gibbs scolded as he swept through. Stopping only to pick up a file from his desk, the team leader went up the stairs.

Ziva smirked at her teammates. "Watching the screen is not going to make the storm arrive any faster, or depart any sooner."

"How wise," Tony grumped. "I'll bet you don't get many hurricanes in Israel, do you, Zee-vah? They're serious storms. And rare here in Washington."

"And you are an expert…? I did not know that Ohio was a target state for hurricanes."

"I've lived here on the East Coast long enough to show them respect."

"That was before he learned that there weren't real women behind the women's names," Tim gibed.

"Har har," Tony snarled.

"And you, McGee," Ziva continued, causing Tim to look up, startled. "You, like Gibbs and Tony, are from America's heartland. You cannot have had much experience with hurricanes."

"No, but with my parents both weather scientists, I _do_ know something about them."

It was Ziva's turn to stare at the TV. "So, do you think it is true? Is the District about to get flattened?"

- - - - -

The storm had been predicted for almost a week. Not the exact path, of course, but all signs had pointed to Candide as one of the few named storms that would likely make landfall on the US this year. Daintily it skipped the Caribbean islands, breezed close to Florida while staying out to sea, popped over the North Carolina Outer Banks, and then took a less expected turn north and west into Virginia. There was now a greater than 90% likelihood that its now northeast track would take it over Washington, Maryland, Delaware and New Jersey before fleeting back to the Atlantic Ocean.

Washington, D.C. No wonder this was swiftly dubbed by pundits the "terrorist storm".

"Are they going to let us out early, do you think?" Tony mused. "It _is_ going to get hazardous out there…"

Tim gave him a doubting look. "We're emergency personnel, Tony. We get to work the hazardous conditions. _Someone_ has to."

"A dead seaman is going to be just as dead after the hurricane's gone," Tony argued. "Most stuff can wait."

"Arrival in D.C. expected in under four hours," said Ziva. "Sustained winds of close to 100 miles per hour. We might be just as safe staying here."

The seldom-used public address system came on. _"May I have your attention. This is Director Vance. Due to the approaching storm, we are letting everyone go home now—"_

"Yes!!!" Tony cried.

"—_with the exception of Venterov's team and Gibbs' team and the Autopsy and Forensics personnel. We can't close down entirely. Travel safely, folks. That is all."_

Tony growled. Tim only said, "Well, we'll get comp time for it."

"Might as well send us out into the howling gale, then," Tony said, still peeved.

Gibbs came back in. "Thanks for volunteering, DiNozzo," he said. "Got a lead on the missing Marine case, over in Chesapeake Beach. You and McGee go."

"Uh, boss, there's a hurricane coming," Tim faltered.

"At a couple miles an hour, McGee. Get going now and you'll be back long before it arrives."

Ziva gave her teammates a look as they reluctantly got up. "What?" Tony demanded. "Are you going to tell us to be careful, hurry back, stay safe, etc.?"

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. "No. I was going to suggest you take an umbrella. It looks like it might rain."

- - - - -

The lead was a witness who lived in a house not far from the beach. Not that there weren't a lot of miles of beach; Chesapeake Bay was a large estuary, comfortably nestling along the shores of both Maryland and Virginia. Chesapeake Beach itself was the name of a community in Maryland.

It didn't take more than a quarter of an hour to get the information needed from the witness, take photographs, and accept the possible evidence that the witness gladly handed over. They should be able to get back to NCIS before the wind and rain made driving impossible.

Tony started the car. "You ever see a hurricane up close, McGee?" he said suddenly.

"Nope, and I don't want to. Let's go."

"Now where's your sense of adventure??"

"My sense of self-preservation kicked it out of the house long ago."

"Would your parents have gotten as far in their careers with that kind of attitude? They're tornado chasers, aren't they? Like in the movie _Twister_?"

"Only my mother is a tornado chaser," Tim said in grunting acknowledgment. "My dad's in theoretical research."

Tony could see that Tim was weakening. "And didn't you find storms thrilling, growing up?"

"Well…yeah, I guess so."

"So here's your chance to grab a prize! Let's get the hurricane experience!"

Tim's eyes gleamed suddenly. "It might be fun," he admitted with a smile.

"When will we ever get a better chance? It's not every year that a hurricane blows over DC!"

"But…it's dangerous."

"And our daily job isn't?"

"And an ocean beach would be the best vantage point."

"Too far to go in this short time period. The Bay will do."

"We should be careful, though."

"Ah, they always exaggerate the dangers. We'll be fine. If it gets really bad, we'll just…drive back to NCIS."

"If we're too late, Gibbs will kill us."

"I can come up with a plausible excuse." Tony staved off Tim's objection. "I said _I_ would come up with a plausible excuse. Yours have too much of the truth in them. I'm more devious."

"No argument there. Okay, let's go find a nice stretch of beach, then, with wind-whipped waves."

- - - - -

Inside the NCIS building, Gibbs stood over Ziva's desk. "Logoff, David. _Now._"

"Yes, Gibbs," Ziva said with reluctance. "I do not like working anywhere but at this desk. All my supplies, my notes, my favorite pens are here."

"Bring your pens with you, if you want. We're under orders to move out two minutes ago. This area isn't safe."

"But the subbasement is so cold."

"Bring your jacket. You can work in Autopsy if you prefer, though there are fewer computers there. Everyone, from the Director on down, is moving downstairs to windowless rooms. We don't know if these big windows and the skylight, much less the roof, can withstand hurricane-force winds."

Ziva thought of something, and stiffened. "Tony and McGee—when they get back, will they know where to go?"

"There will still be guards at the entrance, and they've been briefed. I expect DiNozzo and McGee to call soon, anyway."

Casting one last look out the window at the trees bending in half in the wind, Ziva said, "I would have expected them to have called by now."

- - - - -

As the sedan pulled to a stop in the North Beach parking lot, Tony shut off the engine and was about to open the door when his phone rang. It was Ziva.

Tim listened in amusement while Tony blew her off, but then was shocked when Tony started to get out of the car. "What are you doing??"

"What does it look like I'm doing?! I'm getting out to enjoy the storm."

"But it's very windy and raining!"

"Didn't you bring an umbrella like our dear Ziva told you too?" Tony said mockingly.

Tim snorted. "If I opened an umbrella in this wind, I'd fly away like Mary Poppins. Tony, I thought when you said you wanted to see the storm, we'd do so from the inside of the car."

"Think what you like, McGoo. _I_ am going to the _beach!_ Woo-hoo! Surf's up!!" So saying, Tony closed the car door and went running for beach, puddles splashing in his wake.

Tim looked after him for a moment, and then considered that it might be fun, or at least thrilling. He'd done a bit of thrill-seeking lately; he wasn't really sure why. Some of these adventures had come to Gibbs' attention, and Gibbs had yelled at him for them. There were several others that Gibbs didn't know about. This would be one of them.

Waves, higher than their heads, crashed on the sandy beach before falling back into the bay. Rain fell, but it wasn't a drenching rain…yet. The winds were gusty, rather than sustained, and even the gusts weren't too much for them.

Tony disdained the boardwalk, opting for the beach itself. He struck a pose as a wave approached him, and then laughed as it made him stumble. "Come on! To that pier over there! Let's take pictures!"

"Good idea!" said Tim, without wondering who he could show pictures to. It wasn't like he could ever give this adventure away.

There were, of course, no boats to be seen on the bay. All that could be seen was mist and the unsettled bay. Tilghman Island, the closet bit of land, about six miles due east, was invisible.

The waves splashed up on the pier from below mightily, as if part of a stage show. Both men laughed in silly amusement. Tony spun, taking pictures. "Bring it on, Ma Nature!" he cried, turning his face to the heavens. _"We can take it!!"_

He turned around to say something to Tim.

Only Tim wasn't there.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

- - - - -

"Yes, is this the Keller residence? I am calling from NCIS about…did I get you at a bad time? You are heading for your cellar because of the storm? I am sorry; I will try you again tomorrow." Ziva hung up the phone with a polite click, and then glared at it. "I think you were lying to me, and you _do _have a cell phone you could take with you into the cellar."

She stretched, and looked around. The space in the subbasement normally occupied by the Cybercrime division was now manned by the few people still on duty: the handful of agents, Vance, and Abby. Ducky and Jimmy were nearby in Autopsy. There was plenty of room with the Cybercrime people gone, so the group had spread out. Gibbs, the closest person to Ziva, was two desks away—when he was there. Which he wasn't at the moment.

Seizing the opportunity, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed Tony's number. _They should have been back, they should have called by now…_

Ring. Ring. _"Hey, Ziva! Has the roof blown off NCIS yet?"_ he said cheerily.

"Not that we are aware of. We have been forced into the subbasement for our own protection, they tell us."

"_Oh, too bad. And you probably don't have your mittens."_

"Tony, where _are_ you? Are you not finished yet with that witness?"

"_Yep, all done; evidence in the bags."_

"Then you are almost back in DC, yes?"

"_What's that? I can't hear you over the wind! WhhoooOOooooOO!"_

"Tony, you are merely mimicking the wind." She couldn't help smiling. "What are you and McGee up to? Are you stopping to watch the storm?" Only half-conscious of her actions, she was running a trace on his location.

"_That would be unprofessional on company time."_

"But thrilling."

"_Yeah, I keep trying to convince Mr. Stay-Inside of that. Whoops; we're here. Talk to you soon."_

"Tony, this is not at all wise…" But he had already hung up.

The call was traced to North Beach in the town of Chesapeake Beach. _Those idiots,_ she thought.

After a few more unsuccessful phone calls to civilians, Ziva saw that Gibbs had returned . She picked up her bag and went to the ladies' room, for she did not want him to hear her. After making sure she was alone in there, she pulled out her cell phone.

Tony answered after just one ring. It was unusually prompt of him. _"Not now, Ziva!"_ He clicked off.

Puzzled, annoyed, and curious, she called back. _"No, I can't talk now! It's an emergency!!!"_

He'd sounded more desperate than angry. She tried calling again, but this time, he didn't answer. She waited a few minutes, then called again. Still no answer.

_What could the emergency be? Were they in trouble?_

She tried Tim's number, but got no answer there. Now she was getting worried.

People had their raincoats in the cloak room down the hall. No one saw Ziva slip down there, grab hers, and make for the stairs.

The guards at the front entrance stood well back from the glass doors – in fact, a large cabinet had been moved into place, offering some protection if the glass broke. "Ma'am? Are you sure you want to go out in this?" one asked her.

"I do not _want_ to, but…it is my job," she replied. _My job to have my teammates' backs._

She slipped a rain hat on, and dashed to the garage for her Mini. The guards at the Hull gate tried to talk her out of leaving—they, in fact, stopped her vehicle well short of the guards' huts, which she assumed was wise; the huts did not look like they would withstand a strong wind. "It's not our job to stop you, Agent," said one, kindly. "Just to advise you that road conditions are hazardous, so if you feel you must go out, use caution."

She murmured thanks and drove. The rain was heavy, and the winds pushed at her little car. She fought to keep her car going straight—fortunately, there was almost no one out on the road. Still, in this weather, although her GPS system showed the beach to be only about 30 miles away, it would take over an hour to get there…and the hurricane was getting closer.

_Why am I doing this? I know why. It is because I was angry that Gibbs did not send me out. I want to see a hurricane just as much as Tony does._

- - - - -

"McGee!" Tony called, spinning as he did so, trying to see everywhere at once. "McGee!!" _No! He couldn't have! He couldn't have! _Tony raced to the side of the pier, where he'd last seen Tim, and looked into the water. No sign of him. But in the driving rain, it was hard to see very far. _"McGee!!!"_ His heart thumped as panic set in. And then his stupid phone rang. "Not now, Ziva!" he hollered before clicking it off. When she called back a moment later, he similarly told her off. In fact, he was ready to hurl the annoying phone into the drink when sense took over and he reclipped it to his belt…just before a big wave washed him off the pier.

- - - - -

Sputtering, Tim broke his head above the water surface. _This is not good. Not at all._ He could dimly make out the pier, but the current had already carried him more than 100 feet from it. There might be a rip current. If there was, and he couldn't get out of it, eventually he'd grow exhausted, and he'd drown.

_Don't panic. Don't panic…_ He forced himself to think logically. Would there be a popular beach so close to a known rip current? Unlikely. He was probably just a victim of heightened wave action due to the storm. If he could swim perpendicular to the current, he should be able to make it to shore. And that turned out to be pretty simple.

Once he scrambled up onto the beach, he ran for the pier. "Tony? Tony!" But Tony wasn't there.

It was easier to panic when the victim wasn't yourself. _What if the same wave that knocked me off the pier got him?!_ "Tony! _Tony!!!_ Can you hear me??"

Faintly the sound came. _"McGee…"_ At first Tim thought he must be imagining it. But he had to assume he _had_ heard something, and that Tony was nearby…because he might be. _Never assume the worst,_ his father had always said. _Where…?_

Tim ran up the pier, to near where Tony had been. Waves crashed over the pier now constantly, and it was hard to keep his footing. In desperation, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled. This also gave him the opportunity to look over the side…one side then another, crawling.

Then beneath the pier he saw a dark, large shape. _"Tony!!"_

"Help…"

_He must be half-drowned, but at least he's still alive. And conscious._ "Tony! Reach my hand and I'll pull you out!"

"Can't…stuck…"

_Oh, Lord._ "Okay; don't worry. I'm coming down there and I'll get you out."

"No, McGee…dangerous…don't…"

"I'm already wet," Tim said with a slight grin. About to lower himself into the water, he had a sudden thought. "Be right back," he said. As quickly as he could, he ran back to the car and got a small coil of rope from the trunk. Once back on the pier, he looped the rope around himself and attached the other end to the pier. _Now I won't float away._

The water was no warmer than he had remembered. "Okay, Tony; I'm going to pull you out," Tim said. He tugged. "Wait a minute. You're not stuck. Your jacket is just caught on something."

Tony didn't answer. Tim worked swiftly; not waiting for Tony to help. He pulled and pulled until the jacket fell off, and Tony was free.

"Tony! Tony!" Tim slapped his face a few times, which brought a bleary response. "The pier's too high to reach from here. We're going to have to go to the shore. Got it?"

Tony coughed and coughed, but seemed to nod. Tim paddled and paddled, towing Tony, who wasn't swimming very strongly. At last they crawled up onto the sand where it met the pier. Tim pulled Tony onto the pier and turned him on his side, bidding Tony to cough up the water he'd swallowed.

In a few minutes Tony was sitting up, though still looking grey.

"Feel like moving?" Tim yelled above the rising wind.

"Yeah. Let's go some place dry—like Vegas," Tony rasped.

"How about the car?"

"Isn't it likely to blow away?"

"Well, I hope not."

With Tim letting Tony lean on him, they struggled against the wind and slowly made it to the nice, dry-inside car.

"Good car. Nice car," Tim said. Tony had already fallen asleep. Soon Tim was out, too.

- - - - -

They awakened some time later to a banging on the window. They could only make out a slender figure against the sheets of rain. _Ziva!_

Tim unlocked the doors, and she climbed into the back seat. She was drenched, but smiling. "I guessed that you two wanted to see what a hurricane was like. I did, too. I am impressed."

Tony and Tim exchanged looks, and then laughed. "We've been having a _great_ time," said Tim. "Where's your car?"

"You cannot see it from here. I parked a little ways down rather than risk our cars blowing into each other."

"Ah. Airborne cars. Just like in tornadoes," said Tony. "Where's the storm now, Ziva? How long until it's over us?"

"About an hour. Winds have fallen to 95 miles per hour, but that is still quite strong."

"Should we try driving back?" asked Tim.

"Why are you looking at me, McGee?" Tony said. "_You're_ the one with meteorologist parents. Why don't _you_ know?"

"Perhaps you should call them, McGee," said Ziva.

Tim sighed. "Oh, boy. That would be just like high school. "'Uh, hi, Mom. Just hypothetically speaking, suppose someone was caught out in a 95 mph hurricane…should they try to drive to a big safe building, or stay in their parked car?...No, this _isn't_ about me! It's a _hypothetical situation!_'"

Ziva sniffed. "Parents always know."

"Let's stay put," said Tony.

"This is a good place," agreed Ziva. "Not too close to trees that could blow onto us."

"We should be okay," said Tim. "Really, 95 mph sounds like a lot, but it's not likely to blow houses down or anything."

"Did Gibbs send you after us?" Tony asked suddenly.

"No," Ziva said with a bit of guilt. "He does not know. I slipped out of the building. Everyone else is in the subbasement."

"Without mittens?" Tim asked.

"Our phones got soaked," said Tony. "Maybe you'd better call Gibbs, Ziva. Let him know where we are."

"Unfortunately, my phone is soaked as well," said Ziva.

"So…we wait…for what?" asked Tony.

"For the eye of the hurricane. The seeming-clear," said Tim. "Then we pelt back to Washington before the other side of the storm hits."

"Sounds like fun," said Tony.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

- - - - -

The three agents sat in the NCIS sedan and chatted, while the winds steadily picked up around them. "Are you certain that we are safe in here?" Ziva asked from the back seat, having to raise her voice to be heard over the wind.

"No," Tim said honestly. "But it's safer than any other place we can get to at the moment."

That was a sobering thought. "Is there anything we can do to make ourselves safer?" Ziva wondered, trying to peer through the heavy rain.

"Having second thoughts about coming out here, Zee-vah?" Tony said, smirking.

"Frankly, yes," she said. "There is a reason why Gibbs considers _me_ to be the reliable one—" She waited for their howls of protest to die down. "And that is because I do not take silly risks. Usually. Today I weakened, and gave in to my urge to see a hurricane." She paused, and then shrank down in her seat. "Now that I have seen one, I just want to be somewhere…_safe."_

After a long moment, Tony admitted, "I'm scared, too. A little. _Just_ a little. You, McGee?"

"A little," Tim nodded, but he added quickly, "We'll be fine. A couple more hours of wind and then we'll be in the clear."

Winds picked up sand from the beach and hurled it at the car. The effect was like an army of ants attacking the vehicle with tiny rivet guns. As suddenly as it began, it was over, only to happen again a few minutes later. "Man, I hope this car had a good paint job seal!" Tony remarked.

"And you're glad this is a company car, and not your own," Tim said.

"You got _that_ right."

"_You_ checked it out. _You'll_ still be held responsible for damage," Tim added, and instantly regretted it, seeing Tony flush. "Sorry. We should never have stopped here. I should never have agreed to it. I'm as much to blame as you are."

That didn't cheer up Tony. "I've got a game we can play," he said after a moment. "It goes: 'Who are you more afraid of: Gibbs, or…' I'll start. Who are you more afraid of: Gibbs or the car maintenance people?"

"Gibbs," Tim said quickly. "Who are you more afraid of: Gibbs or the hurricane?"

"Gibbs," said Ziva. And the game went on. Tim kept score. When the tally was at Gibbs-21, all others-3,Ziva suddenly looked to her side as from the corner of her eye the outside grew darker. She shrieked and ducked.

There was just enough warning for Tony and Tim to do the same. An airborne tree crashed lengthwise into the side of the car, making it rock, and cracking the windows. "Holy…holy…holy…" Tony sputtered.

"I should have stayed at NCIS. I should have stayed at NCIS," Ziva muttered, almost like a prayer.

Tim understood, but he couldn't help saying, "I thought nothing frightened you."

"Humans do not frighten me," she said, gulping. "But I cannot fight the weather."

"We're not safe here," said Tony in alarm.

"There's nothing we can do about it," Tim pointed out. "The winds are too strong, to drive in…even if it weren't for the sheets of rain."

"There must be a, a beach-house-changing-area or _something_ along here!"

Simultaneously, Tim and Ziva grabbed Tony. "Do not even _think_ about going out, Tony!" Ziva demanded. "You will die!"

"We—"

"No," Tim cut him off. "We're _not_ going to die in here. The car may get roughed up a bit, but we should be okay."

"In _Twister…_"

"This isn't _Twister._ That was about tornadoes. This is a hurricane. Different kind of storm. Mainly, the winds in this hurricane are a _lot_ less. This car isn't going to start flying."

"You sure?" Tony was about as pale as Tim had ever seen him.

"I'm sure." He _did_ have one related fear, but he wasn't about to mention it.

- - - - -

More sand, and some small stones, slammed into the car. Tony looked ahead, through the windshield, at one point just in time to see something else dark, long and thin, like a length of pipe, coming at them. _"Duck!!"_ he yelled, and they did. Fortunately, whatever it was sailed over the roof without hitting the car.

"I think we should stay ducked," Ziva gasped.

"Good idea!" It made them feel a little safer, although it was harder to take comfort in seeing each other.

"Who are you more afraid of: Gibbs or—"

"_Enough_, Tony," said Tim. "_Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs._ Although right now I'd happily be back at NCIS, being called on the carpet by Gibbs, over being here."

They were all silent for a moment. Then Tony said, "Okay, poll time. Who here thought of checking to see if their phone was working again, to call Superman Gibbs to come and rescue us?"

All three cautiously raised a hand.

_**Wham!!!**_ Another tree, or at least a large branch, hit the car. They all cried out in terror, and it took a moment for their pulses to stop racing.

"The…the window…" Ziva said, tearfully.

"Your window?"

"No…the one next to McGee…it is broken more."

The window now had many more spidery cracks. It didn't look like it would hold in the event of another hit.

"What happens when 95 mph winds start coming through the car?" Tony asked with a shudder.

_Think! Think! _"Well, we've just got to prevent that from happening," said Tim, since he didn't like the answer his brain had produced.

Tony regained some composure. "If we could board up the windows…but we don't have boards. What do we have?"

"Everything's in the trunk, isn't it? And we can't go out to get it!"

"There are some things here on the seat beside me," said Ziva.

"Of course!" Tony whooped. "I took a lot of stuff out of the trunk before we got to the witness' house! I meant to put it back later! What do you see that we can use?"

"There is a heavyweight blue tarp. I can cut that up."

"Excellent! Woo!"

"Is there anything to attach it to the windows?" asked Tim.

"Um…yes; duct tape."

"We're in business, then!" Tony stopped, and thought. "Will this really keep hurricane-force winds out?"

"Possibly," said Tim. "More importantly, though: If the windows don't hold, it'll keep broken glass from flying at us."

"Oh. That would be nasty, yes."

- - - - -

The tarped-over windows gave them some security, but also cut down on the light. It also meant that they couldn't see anything else blowing at them from that side…but as long as they stayed ducked (uncomfortable as that was), there was nothing else they could do.

_Monsters under the bed; monsters in the air…_

Tony tried, without success, to revive the 'who are you more afraid of' game. Their hearts were no longer in it, though. Ziva got them instead playing '20 questions', which could take their minds off their surroundings.

Time wore on. When, more than four hours since Ziva had hopped into their car, she remarked, "Is it my imagination, or are the winds dying down?", the others looked up in surprise.

"The rain's letting up, too," said Tony. The sheets of rain had fallen to a mild steady rain, but that too grew less by the second.

"We made it! The hurricane is over!" Ziva exulted.

"No! It isn't!" Tim grabbed her hand before she could open the car door.

"McGee, I think I see a patch of blue sky! It is _over!!!"_

"_Listen to me!!_ This is just _one-half_ of the hurricane! The eye, the donut hole of the storm, the calm part, is about to go over us. Then we'll get hit with the other side of the storm!"

He was almost sorry for having to speak the truth. The shock, the disappointment, the fear on his teammates' faces was painful to see. "How long…how much time do we have before the other side hits?" asked Tony.

"Maybe enough time to make it back to NCIS," said Tim.

The others brightened. _That_ was what they wanted to hear.

Ziva opened the door, and then stopped. "The tree is blocking this side." She scooted across the seat and opened the other door, standing in the light sprinkle of rain. About two inches of water stood on the parking lot asphalt.

Tony got out as well, and went around the car to look at the tree. "I don't think we need to move the tree," he said. "I'm sure it's too heavy anyway. I think I can back away from it."

"Good. There should be a couple bottles of water in the trunk. Get them out," said Tim.

"Water?! After all the water you've had today, you want more?"

"Only to drink, thank you."

"Well, okay, then." Tony got out a bottle for each of them, then looked at Ziva, who had started away from the car. "Hey! Where are you going?"

She looked back. "To go to my car, and drive back to NCIS."

Tim had scooted across the seat climbing over the gearshift, and now stood with Tony. He exchanged glances with him. "I don't think that's wise. Your car is pretty lightweight, and what if we hit winds again before we get back?"

She looked uncertain at that. "But I do not want to leave it here…"

"One of us will drive you back here tomorrow to get it. Let's get started."

"Very well. Let me just put a note on the dashboard in case the police come by."

- - - - -

Soon they were ready to go. The tree was not caught on the sedan anywhere, so it was easy to pull out. Tony drove carefully, lest a sudden stop cause the car to hydroplane. Water was on the highways as well…large puddles of it. Tim and Ziva let their measured eyes offer advice as to whether Tony should try to drive through, or around, the standing water. In most cases, the road was level, though, meaning that strangely deep puddles were unlikely.

Overhead the sky had turned mostly blue, with fast-moving wisps of clouds racing over it. "Do those clouds mean anything?" Tony asked Tim.

"I don't know," Tim admitted. "I know more about tornadoes. We don't get hurricanes in the Upper Plains states."

"So we're okay, do you think?"

"I think so. But let's not stop for anything. Do we have enough gas?"

"We're fine on gas."

That was a good thing, for no service stations en route appeared to be open. Several had plywood covering the windows to prevent breakage from the storm.

They had the highway nearly to themselves. Tony admitted that he didn't mind keeping the speed down, due to the wet driving conditions. But it wasn't entirely deserted. Flashing lights ahead slowed them down even more. Police vehicles were at the side of a vehicle that lay on its roof in the median.

"Should we stop and help?" Tim wondered.

"I think we would just be in the way," said Ziva, looking sad about it.

A little further away was another accident; this one a fender-bender. But beyond that was a car that had hit a tree, and then another one; an overturned tractor trailer. One of the accident scenes had people carried up the embankment on stretchers.

Tim fiddled with the radio to try to get news. Some of the usual stations were only static. "Power outages?" he mused. _"…other side of the hurricane wall to pass over the District in about one hour's time_" a station crackled faintly before they lost it. Tim turned the radio back off.

"Surely we can make it to NCIS within an hour, yes?" asked Ziva. "We must be halfway there already."

"We're not going very fast," said Tony. "But with luck, we'll—oh—" he broke off, swearing. A police car, lights flashing, was behind them. He pulled the car over and stopped.

The state trooper walked up to their car, giving them a curious, rather than reprimanding, look. "You folks didn't notice the little wind storm we're having?"

Tony gave him a brilliant smile. "We're with NCIS, officer," he said, slowly pulling out his badge. "On assignment."

"Well, even NCIS should take precautions. We'd urged only essential travel right now."

"We're on our way back to the Navy Yard now. We should be able to get there before the other side, ah, comes up."

"Okay. You folks be careful. Stay out of deep puddles and watch for hydroplaning." He left them, and they pulled back onto the highway.

- - - - -

"It is getting cloudy," said Ziva. "Can you not go faster, Tony?"

"Not and stay sufficiently safe," he replied.

"Clouds are to be expected," said Tim. "They're not necessarily stormy. They're the precursors of the hurricane wall."

"They are getting thicker, the clouds."

"Oh, well. We'll be safe inside the wild orange walls before…Oh. My. God."

"What is it, Tony? What do you see? I cannot see well from the back seat."

"Oh…crap."

"McGee! Is that, or isn't that a _tornado_ dead ahead?!?"

"Yes…yes it is. Well, don't drive _toward_ it, Tony!"

"What; you want me to turn around and drive the other way?? There may be three feet of water in the sunken median!"

_"No! Never, ever try to outrun a tornado!_ That's rule #1. _Always_ drive perpendicular to it. There's an exit coming up in ¼ mile."

They all looked fearfully at the long, gray, swaying funnel that seemed to slowly grow larger. "How fast can a tornado travel, McGee?" Ziva asked, choking on the words.

"It, ah, varies," he said.

"This is not a time to be wishy-washy, McGeek!"

"Tony, a) it really does vary, and b) I'm not a meteorologist! Now you just get us off at the next exit!!"

"What the—" Tony swerved the car back onto the road in the nick of time. The exit ramp was completely blocked by one or more fallen trees.

"How far to the next exit?" asked Ziva, in a strained voice.

"About two miles, I think," said Tony. "We'll never make it. Give us a solution, McGee!"

"We could park the car," Ziva suggested.

"Not safe."

"Even under the underpass?"

"No. Not safe."

"_What, then???"_

Suddenly Tim saw what he had been looking for. "Stop! Park here!"

"But you just said—"

"Just do it! Hurry!!"

Tony pulled the car onto the shoulder. "Everyone out!" Tim ordered. "Nice, deep ditch here. Everyone down in it. Lie flat, and put your hands over your head!"

Ziva and Tony exchanged only brief glances, and then did as Tim said. "We are making ourselves flat. Less likely to be picked up by the tornado. I see," she said.

"Or to be hit by debris, which is the greater danger," said Tim.

Around them the wind pitch rose to a nearly unbearable shriek. A heavy rumbling sound filled the lower registers. Their stomachs felt queasy with the sudden drop in barometric pressure.

It was as if the mouth of the underworld had opened. Never had they known such terror. Their clothing whipped their backs and their legs painfully. Small stones and twigs pounded them. _"No! No! No!"_ Ziva screamed as she felt herself being lifted up…only to sink back down as Tony and Tim both grabbed for her, and held her down with their own, heavier bodies.

_I am going to die. I am going to die…_

And then it ended. The winds dropped to nothing. Cautiously the three raised their heads, and could not see the tornado any longer.

"Does it move that fast?" asked Tony.

"No, it probably went back up in the clouds. They skip a lot like that," Tim said, looking concerned. "But let's go. Where there's one, there may be others."

At that, Ziva turned white, as did Tony. "Man, McGee. I don't…I don't think I'm ready for another experience like that."

"All the more reason to get going."

"Is that freaky wild or what? A hurricane and a tornado, both??"

Tim hemmed. "Uh, not really. Where there's a hurricane, tornadoes often break out."

Tony grabbed him by the collar. "You son of a—! You swore that this was nothing like _Twister!_"

"It _is_ nothing like _Twister._ The hurricane part, that is. I didn't mention tornadoes earlier because you guys were spooked enough. I didn't want to worry you."

"Let him go, Tony," Ziva sighed. "We are okay. For the moment."

Tony relaxed. "Yeah. If the car's still here, we can—_Yearrgh!!"_ All three of them were too late to cover their faces as a small whirlwind engulfed them, flicking pebbles and sand like little missiles at them. In a moment it, too, had moved on, but their faces were now bloody and sore.

"Get us out of here! Get us out of here! Or I will go insane!" Ziva cried.

"Get in line," said Tim. "I just want to be back in NCIS."

"How are we going to get there, McGee?" Tony thundered.

"In the sedan?"

"What sedan? The one that Twister Sr. picked up?"

"No, the one that's still right where you parked it. Right over there."

"…Oh."

It was a more sober group that set off for the remaining miles to NCIS. Tim didn't point out that the wall of clouds was getting closer. At this point, mentioning that wouldn't do any good at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

- - - - -

The rest of the journey back to NCIS was quiet and mostly uneventful. At one point Tony drove through a puddle at a small dip in the highway that proved to be a lot deeper than expected, but by driving very slowly, the sedan escaped flooding and the brakes held. They all sighed with relief. Unspoken were the thoughts of being stranded on the highway with the other side of the hurricane fast approaching.

The streets of Washington were quiet…_creepy quiet_, as Tony put it. People evidently were heeding the warnings and staying in sheltered areas. Trees were down here and there. Many street signs, stop signs, even a few stop lights were blown over. Dark stoplights in some areas indicated power outages. Freestanding signs had toppled, and even some rooftops had peeled off. Bus shelters and other small structures were down; some lying in the roads. And the wind was picking up, and the rain falling again.

It was short work to get to the O Street gate after the exit off the highway…but halfway down the street, fallen trees blocked the way. Tony grimaced and turned the car around, hoping that the Hull gate was open.

It was. The checkpoint guards waved them in quickly, after just a glance at their IDs. Tony parked the car in the NCIS garage and they stumbled through the rain to the front entrance.

A sympathetic guard said to them, "Man! I'm glad I don't have your job, agents! I'm to direct you to the subbasement—that's where everyone's hiding out. The upper floors aren't safe."

"We're all about safety," Tony nodded. Glumly, the threesome took the elevator to the subbasement.

- - - - -

Gibbs turned at the ding of the elevator, close by. His team saw anger race across his face, followed by a shimmer of worry, and then gentleness as he took in the sight of them: clothing stained with mud; faces still bloody and bruised. His voice cracked just a little as he said quietly, "Go see Ducky. Get your cuts cleaned up. Then, we'll talk."

"Oh, man; oh, man; that's a scary word: 'talk'," Tony mumbled as they headed for Autopsy. "What a day!"

Ducky blinked on seeing them. "It _is_ true, then. You were out in the storm."

"The hurricane _and_ a tornado," Tim said, almost in disbelief.

"Have you no sense, people?! There are five deaths in the area attributed to the storm. We feared you might be among them."

"We almost were," said Ziva, and she started to cry.

"Good heavens! What's all this?" Tears were not what Ducky was expecting. Certainly not from Ziva. Nor even, really from Tony and Tim…who weren't crying, but who looked like they might.

"I was _so scared_, Ducky," Ziva sobbed. "I am supposed to be strong. To have no fear. But now I cannot stop…"

"Suppose you start at the beginning," the ME said softly, "and tell me everything that happened."

- - - - -

Gibbs appeared in the doorway at the end of the long tale. Ducky saw him, and stepped out into the corridor to talk, letting the door close behind him. "How long does it take to treat a few cuts, Duck? We have work to do."

"Oh, I'm not recommending any work today, Jethro. They've had a horrible shock."

Fixing him with a skeptical eye, Gibbs said, "I'm listening, but this better be good. DiNozzo and McGee should have been back hours ago. David snuck out, without requesting leave."

Ducky told him. "If it can make a strong warrior like Ziva sob, it's serious. I suspect we're seeing the early stages of post-traumatic stress disorder. I would hope that they'll just get over their fears, but we should watch them, in case they don't."

"It's that bad?"

"Not once, but twice, they were sure they would die…and were powerless to fight back. It's the ultimate terror."

Gibbs looked distracted, annoyed at something in his head. "Can I talk to them now?"

"Oh, I know that they shouldn't have been out there. But this is not the time to scold them, Jethro."

With just a slight nod, Gibbs went into Autopsy.

They looked startled on seeing him, sitting loosely, like broken toys, on an autopsy table, their faces and hands now attended with tiny bandages and ointment. "Oh! Boss!" said Tony. "I, uh…" Words died in his throat and he looked down at the floor.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs acknowledged. "Any trouble getting the car back?"

"Well, uh…the tires are all fine. Good tires, that car has."

Gibbs held in his wince at what was left out of Tony's speech.

"It is all my fault, Gibbs," said Ziva. "I wanted to see a hurricane. I detained Tony and McGee to watch it."

"No way, boss. I'm to blame. Or, McGee and I are."

"Right," said Tim, after a mild glare at Tony.

"You could have been killed out there," Gibbs said, trying to sound calm.

Ziva started crying again, and Gibbs quickly backpedaled. "All I care about right now is that you're back here, where it's safe. That's all that matters." He enveloped them in a hug. "The second half of the storm is just starting here. Stay here tonight, and then take the day off tomorrow. Relax. Calm down."

"We should never have left here," Ziva said, dabbing at tears. "It was safe here."

"Relatively," said Gibbs. "Remember how I had to nag you to come down to the subbasement, Ziva? During that first half of the storm, at some point a tree came flying through one of our squad room windows. It landed on your desk and mine. Maintenance will be a while clearing that out tomorrow."

"A tree…I could have been…"

"There's risk in everything. What's important is that we cut down the risk by not taking unnecessary chances."

"We screwed up. And almost got ourselves…"

"There was this tree, boss. Flying at us! I thought…"

"The tornado was the worst part. It was coming toward us, and we had no way to get off the highway. It started to lift me off the ground…"

Gibbs held up a hand, and stopped himself from saying the word _counselors._ Too soon. "When you're ready, come join us in the Cybercrime room. We have soda and microwaved soup. Better than nothing." He walked out.

After a moment of silence, Tony, who was the one in the middle, put an arm around Ziva and Tim. "Thanks, guys. You kept me sane, and alive, today."

"Teamwork," said Ziva.

"Amen," said Tim. They looked up as thunder shook the building. "Amen."

-END-


End file.
